New Memories
by fui
Summary: Sylar went back to the back to kill Peter. However, things didn't go as smoothly as he planned it to be


New Memories

When Sylar gained the power of time-control, he was overly thrilled. Now he had the power to change anything, everything just by going back to the past for a little bit. Or just a bit further, he really couldn't decide – every possibility was equally tempting. There was one thing he knew for sure though – Peter Petrelli. He should deal with that annoying empath soon, lately he was getting too powerful, always matched him blow to blow and there were no words that could describe how much he wanted to kill him.

So he went back to the past. He had gathered some data, and found that the best time to kill Peter was during his childhood – during his neglected childhood. Sylar liked the developed idea that he was actually helping Peter to end his misery, to take him away before he realized that both his parents would never expect anything good from him, before he knew that he was nothing more than Nathan's shadow.

Everything was pretty much the same, he noted – the busy street, the beautiful houses at the prestigious road. After all, he only went back around 20 years or so, so it would be just plainly natural. The Petrelli house was too familiar for him, and he should be careful enough to avoid Nathan otherwise America wouldn't have a good president later on. He chuckled. That kind of things could always be rearranged.

He started walking, looking for Peter. A quick glance at the nearby shop signaled that he actually arrived at the right time. Peter would be home from school anytime soon, walking by himself like he always did. He just needed to be patient, and waited for the right time to 'help' him. He could be patient.

Minutes passed, and eventually he got bored. He started walking around the block again, to find something interesting, anything that would help to occupy his mind for a while. A man was standing at the corner of the street, offering unique watches. Unconsciously he came closer, inspecting the indeed antique collection with curiosity; some of them were quite new, some were old, and others were broken. He could see all of that in a glimpse. He picked one of them, a familiar brand in his life. Sylar. It was different from the newer model that practically changed his life. That one was broken as well.

"How much?" he asked. The man told the price and he paid. Pocketing the new watch to inspect later on, he walked again. Still he didn't see him. He wondered whether Peter was absent today, perhaps lying in bed, alone. Sylar quickly shook that thought away. Whatever Peter's condition right now, he had a purpose here. He got into a nearby coffee shop, conveniently happened to be right in front of Peter's house. He ordered a cup of warm coffee before sitting on a rather secluded place in the shop. From his seat he could see the road perfectly, but his position made others unable to spy on his activities.

He took out the broken watch from his pocket, and used his telekinetic to unlock the screw. He laid the parts on the table carefully, examining its problem. With a precise flick of his finger, the problem was solved. The broken watch successfully beat again in his grasp. Smiling, he reassembled the parts and put the newly born watch into his pocket. Carefully, he sipped his coffee.

His eyes widened as he spotted the familiar small figure carrying a backpack running into Peter's house. He stood up, ignoring his unfinished steaming coffee and stepped outside. Peter was already inside the house, so he waited. Then the young boy emerged out again, this time with a bright orange balloon in his hand. Sylar tailed him in quite a distance, carefully picked his timing. A loud cry pierced his ear then, and he found himself walking faster to the source. It was a sound no one could hear, but his sensitive hearing picked it up easily moreover since he heard the more powerful version of it over and over again, in his time.

In a nearby alley, Sylar found Peter was climbing a tree. The boy was trying to retrieve the orange balloon, which somehow flew away from his hand. Sylar watched him carefully as Peter climbed ever higher on the tree. He figured it would solve his problem easily if he made it like an accident. He could use his telekinetic to cut one of the branches, and made him fell down with a broken neck. That would be easy. However, the moment he saw Peter's right foot was about to step on one of the most fragile branches on the tree, Sylar found himself shouted:

"Hey, don't!"

Peter turned his head down to see the one who shouted at him, and Sylar wanted nothing more than to slap himself for acting so foolishly. Both of them stared at each other for a while, before Peter said to him:

"Do you want me to come down?"

Sylar was taken aback; of all response he definitely didn't expect that. It wasn't that he had much experience with children either. He looked up at him.

"Do you want to?"

Peter looked back at the orange balloon, which was stuck on the highest branch. "No, I need to take that."

"Why?"

"Nathan gave it to me. It's special for me."

Sylar looked at the balloon. Definitely it held no definition of special in it. Peter started to climb again, and this time Sylar reminded himself to keep his mouth shut. Whatever befell on Peter was surely his fortune. Peter managed to make a few steps before the branch that he stepped on broke. He shrieked, Sylar quickly stride to him and caught him in his arms before he could he hit the ground. Peter clutched at his shirt for dear life as Sylar listened his heartbeat hitched in a second.

After a few moments, Peter watched his balloon ran away, blown by the combination of the tree's shook and wind. He struggled to rise up from Sylar's embrace. Sylar was amused to the fact that Peter loved that balloon even more than his life. He watched in horror as Peter tried to climb up again.

"Stop that."

"My balloon…" he was starting to cry. Sylar sighed.

"It will come back. Look!"

Sylar raised his hand, with his telekinetic he controlled the balloon's movement, spiraling down and down until it rested in his hand. Peter watched him in awe, he shakily took the offered balloon from Sylar's hand.

"Wow, it really came back." He flashed his most charming smile to Sylar. The older man had the difficulty of not smiling back. "Thanks."

Sylar watched him oddly as Peter offered the balloon to him.

"What?"

"For saving my life. I'm Peter." His big brown eyes looked expectantly at Sylar.

"Sylar." He answered, accepting the balloon as he saw no other option. He decided that he's look totally ridiculous holding a balloon. He sensed Peter took in his form, memorizing every detail of his features. He shifted uneasily.

"You should take it, Peter. You said it's important." He shoved the balloon back into Peter's small hand.

"No, you take it." He said stubbornly. "If you feel bad, then let's exchange Mr. Sylar."

"What?"

"We'll exchange, your stuff with my balloon." Peter smiled.

"Why would I want to give something to you?" he tried to argue back. Peter shifted closer to him, suddenly decided by himself that Sylar was kind of big warm teddy bear and hugged him. Peter's hug was comforting, and Sylar's palm unconsciously crept up the small back, hugged the boy even closer. Peter was using his power, his empathic ability, made Sylar all safe and calm in his hug. Peter held him at an arm distance then.

"Because you are my friend, Mr. Sylar. You're important to me. You saved me." He explained. Sylar shrugged and reached inside his pocket to take out the only object he had at the moment – the watch. Peter accepted the watch with interest written down in his face.

"You have your name on it." He concluded. Sylar smiled.

"Yeah, I did."

"Thanks. I'll remember it."

Sylar watched him leave, wondering how could he let Peter go. He should've gone after him and killed him, but he found his desire had gone away. He didn't want to kill Peter now, some other time maybe but definitely not now. He reluctantly activated his time-travelling power, went back to whatever reality waited for him in the future.

*

He was about to open the door to his apartment when he realized that it wasn't locked. That was weird, he remembered exactly that he had locked it before he went. He listened carefully, and heard the familiar voice hummed a tune inside – Peter's. Sylar growled, activating his cyrokinetic to counter Peter's pyrokinetic. He peeked inside and found his arch enemy stirred a bottle of jam. Peter looked up at him and with a blink of his teleport ability he was next to the taller man, stood on his toes to place a kiss on his cheek.

Sylar was so stunned that his ice immediately gone. Peter smirked at him before pulled him for a longer kiss. Sylar didn't fight him, too shocked to register any thoughts. When Peter broke the kiss, he stared at him confusedly.

"Oh right, wait here." Peter was gone again, in a second Sylar saw him on the kitchen counter again, swooping a portion on jam with his finger. He went back to him then, holding his jam-covered finger in front of his lips, clearly expecting Sylar to lick it off.

"What are you doing here?" Sylar asked.

"I make some jam for you. It's not peach, I know. But Hiro gave me strawberries yesterday. I've told you this, right?"

"I mean what are you doing in my place?"

Peter looked at him oddly. He licked the jam himself in annoyed fashion.

"Your place? Sylar, it's been our place since ages. What's wrong with you?"

Sylar was speechless. Peter teleported away from him and moved to the kitchen again, this time cleaning the scattered remains of fruits. He carefully looked at his surroundings. There were so many things spread here and there, it was so messy but lively. He didn't remember he ever felt at home more than this. He walked closer to Peter.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…" he didn't even know what to say here, so he cautiously wrapped his arms around Peter's waist. The younger man sighed against him, he leaned on his chest and pulled his head in for a kiss. This time, Sylar allowed himself to feel the pleasant touch of Peter's lips. It was then he realized that Peter was wearing something familiar.

"Peter, that watch…" he absent-mindedly traced the watch on Peter's wrist. Peter nuzzled his jaw affectionately.

"What? You know the story. A watch with the same name as yours."

"Then?"

"Don't make me say it." He hit him playfully, before disappearing into the bedroom. Sylar followed him, momentarily surprised at the condition of his normally stoic room. Peter was taking a new overcoat from the cupboard.

"Then what?" Sylar asked impatiently. Peter turned to him, dropped his coat on the bed. He kissed him again, this time not wasting time as his hand nimbly unbuttoned Sylar's shirt.

"Then…I have one more hour before I have to work."

Sylar understood it all that moment. His intuitive inaptitude directly explained to him what had happened. That simple moment of sparing Peter's childhood life had changed everything he had ever known. It had bonded both Peter and him, twisted their previous hate-filled life into something more promising. He had no idea whether he'd be able to accept Peter's presence in his individual life, but when Peter pulled him on top of himself of the soft mattress, Sylar decided that he'd be willing to try hard.

The end


End file.
